Let The Truth Sting
by Lindt Luirae
Summary: Sasuke's first glance at Kakashi's face comes in the form of Kakashi's open mouth pressed over Sakura's. Or, in which Sasuke sees Sakura has found her happiness with someone else. Quite graphically. [KakaSaku, Sasuke's POV]


**Inspired by a conversation I had with Sayuri-chan, this is for you hehe xx**

**Beta'd by the kindest, cutest, loveliest person ever, the one and only Kakashisgf 3**

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It's 9:00 p.m. on a Friday evening and Konoha's most popular watering hole is starting to crowd with shinobi leaving work or recently returned from a mission.

It's a special occasion that gathers some of Konoha's elites at the same table tonight. They sit laughing and celebrating, all of them in various stages of inebriation, but the drunkest of them all is Genma Shiranui, the birthday boy.

"I'm forty-eight," he bemoans for the tenth time that evening and takes a swig from his drink.

"You're alive," Kakashi chimes in with uncharacteristic drunken cheer as he claps him on the back. "Something that can't be said for all forty-eight year olds!"

"Yeah Genma, count your blessings," Kotetsu sniggers, then raises his shot in a toast, "to being alive!"

"I sure hope _I'll_ still be alive at forty-eight," Izumo mutters under the chorus of cheers that follows Kotetsu's declaration.

Genma lets out a loud and exaggerated sigh, leaning back in his seat and clasping his hands behind the back of his chair as he surveys the dim bar. "Whatever. As long as I get laid."

"That's the spirit!" Gai congratulates with a laugh, as always brimming to the brink with the springtime of youth ... even at forty-five.

Tenzou makes a face. "_Speaking_ of forty-eight, don't you think it's about time you settle down? You don't actually wanna die alone do you?"

Genma looks half-thoughtful, half-plastered as he ponders the question. "It's easy to say that but ... with who?"

Kotetsu all too happily answers him. "Oh, there are plenty of options," he reassures. "Shizune is still single right? And she's almost your age ... but if you want a younger woman, Sakura Haruno is back on the market, and I'd definitely snatch _that_ if I could."

Unbeknownst to them, two men bristle at the mention of a certain rosette. One happens to be her best friend and the Hokage of the village—he's sitting in a quaint corner with Sasuke Uchiha, Sakura's ex-husband—and the other one is Kakashi Hatake.

"Everyone would 'snatch' that if they could, Kotetsu," Izumo snorts.

"Haruno-san has truly blossomed into a fine and beautiful woman," Gai adds in wistfully.

"Oh, she blossomed alright," Genma leers.

Kakashi's beer slams down a little too hard on the tabletop, "You know she would punch you seven ways to Sunday if she heard you, right?"

"Oooh," Kotetsu snorts, "she definitely could. I'd say it's part of her appeal."

Kakashi rolls his eyes. "I'll enjoy the show then. God knows no one should talk about her like she's a piece of meat."

Of course, Gai chooses that moment to burst into manly tears. "Kakashi, my rival, your love and dedication towards your teammate is most inspiring!"

Kakashi, for his part, winces at the volume and pokes a pinky into his abused ear. "Sweet mercy Gai ..."

"Get us another round on me!" Gai bellows happily.

"I'd never say no to free alcohol," Kotetsu nods approvingly and stumbles his way to the bar.

At 10:00 p.m., one silver-haired ninja turns in regrettably early. He smiles bashfully, utters his apologies and soon makes his way out of the pub, leaving behind a laughing crowd and one quietly pondering gaze.

Sasuke Uchiha turns to face his companion. "I think I'm going to head home now."

Only ever managing to get tipsy, Naruto slurs slightly, "Whaaat! But it's still so early!"

Sasuke ignores the part of him that protests valiantly against what he's about to do, but a burning sense of shame starts to simmer in his stomach nonetheless. "I still have to do laundry."

"Baaaah," Naruto groans, "fine. Whatever. Hinata always does mine, but you're single and lame now, teme, so go do your laundry."

Sasuke tries not to bristle. "At least I'm capable of basic human adult functions, usaratonkashi."

Naruto waves him off. "Off you go, teme."

Sasuke goes.

He walks out of the pub, pauses for a mere second to reconsider his decision but still ends up following the familiar scent of ozone and cedarwood deeper and deeper into the heart of the city.

Sasuke had only been intending to talk to Kakashi, to see if it's his imagination playing tricks on him or if there is truly something fishy happening under his nose. But as he takes his time working up the right words, Kakashi comes to a stop at a high-end teashop owned by the Akimichi.

... not somewhere he expected Kakashi, the cheapskate that he is, to frequent at any point in time.

Sasuke's curiosity piques tenfold—not that he'd ever let it show on his face.

Kakashi comes out twenty minutes later, twenty minutes Sasuke had spent stewing, propelled back and forth by two opposing lines of thought urging him forward to talk to Kakashi and away to go home and mind his own business like he is supposed to.

He has just about convinced himself to leave when the sight of three takeout bags in Kakashi's hand makes him pause and re-evaluate. Kakashi wouldn't eat all that food. Kakashi plans to _share_ that food.

Suddenly it is very important for Sasuke to find out who Kakashi's dinner-mate is (though he doesn't appreciate his sneaking suspicion).

Obscured by the shadows, Sasuke stalks after Kakashi, silently and stealthily.

Following his former team captain and teacher leads him to the center of the village, to the very building Kakashi used to avoid like the plague.

The growing suspicion starts itching under Sasuke's skin. Here he is, in front of Konoha's central hospital, watching Kakashi Hatake leisurely make his way to the entrance and disappear behind the glass doors.

It's none of his business.

Damned if he can't help but mind it anyway.

All rational thought flies out of the window in a pathetic _whoosh! _as Kakashi comes back out with Sasuke's ex-wife trailing beside him. She's smiling, looking slightly weary, but there's a light to her that he hasn't seen since she was pregnant with Sarada.

He can't hear them from this far, and he can't read Kakashi's lips with his mask on, but he can make out Sakura telling him about her hospital shift, the new system Tsunade is implementing, Shizune's ridiculous secret crush. It is all very innocuous.

Sasuke still finds himself following them.

There's a subtle air of a routine, a comfortable familiarity found only between people who hang out frequently, and Sasuke's feeling of shame has receded to be replaced by a surge of irritation as it becomes apparent where the duo is heading. Down the block is Sakura's two-bedroom apartment, the one she bought for herself after she divorced Sasuke more than a year ago.

At her doorstep, Sasuke fully expects her to say her goodbyes to Kakashi.

Sasuke watches with a scowl as she invites him in.

Damn it!

Sasuke flash-steps to the kitchen window in time to see them enter with matching smiles, still chatting amiably. A few seconds later, a red blur propels into Kakashi with enough force to make the man let out a winded laugh.

Sarada turns the full power of her beaming grin on Kakashi, whose eyes crease happily in response, and Sasuke has the irrational urge to punch him in the face. Thankfully, before that emotion can become any more aggravated, Sarada turns to tackle Sakura into a matching hug.

Sourly, Sasuke observes as they set the dinner table and take their seats, still chatting and laughing. He doesn't understand his bitterness, as his divorce to Sakura had been mutually agreed upon.

For the longest time, Sakura had thought she had some kind of control over him, some influence, but she was sorely mistaken. Sasuke refuses to be shackled down by anyone. So he agreed to the divorce; he let her rage and scream and watched her leave, and he was more than happy to banish her from his thoughts afterwards.

Many would be willing to help him rebuild the Uchiha clan. Sakura won't deter the process anymore. Sarada is already a very successful product of the Uchiha genes, advancing through her career with unrivalled ease and a growing repertoire of jutsu her teachers preached about. Sasuke can see her potential, is eager to know what could become of his other future children.

Shortly after they clean up the table and put away the leftovers, Sarada excuses herself to go to her room, but Kakashi and Sakura remain behind in the now quiet kitchen. Sasuke doesn't dare move closer. He may be stronger than them, virtually unbeatable, but he isn't untraceable, and he doesn't wish to explain why he is loitering in the bushes outside of Sakura's home.

He has a reputation to keep up.

When Sakura gets up to retrieve a sake bottle, he nearly groans. Kakashi is planning to stay _longer_? Sasuke can't quite tell why that irks him so much.

Together, Kakashi and Sakura drink. One cup turns into two, turns into three, turns into the whole bottle, and by the end of the hour, Sakura has a rosy colour in her cheeks that matches her hair and Kakashi's gaze is half-lidded and hazy.

Sasuke, who has fallen into a half-comatose state in his boredom, is too shocked to react at first when Kakashi reaches across the table to take Sakura's hand in his. He's surprised she doesn't withdraw from his touch but is even more shocked by the way she smiles softly at him like some love-sick teenager.

Kakashi's thumb strokes back and forth across her knuckles, again and again until Sasuke's shock transforms into disbelief and then a sudden and utter form of rueful acceptance. Something is happening here. Something is brewing between Sakura and Kakashi. How powerful, he doesn't know quite yet.

But he is about to find out.

Sasuke's jaw drops open when Sakura boldly, surely, stands up and easily crawls onto the table, body coiling gracefully as she bends down, her ass swaying tantalisingly in his line of sight, and kisses Kakashi.

His paralysing bewilderment shackles him to his spot, freezes his body so that he stands motionlessly just beside the window, watching the way Kakashi reciprocates Sakura's kiss.

Sasuke's first glance at Kakashi's face comes in the form of Kakashi's open mouth pressed over Sakura's as he slowly works his way back to his feet, hands tangling in Sakura's hair, now long enough to touch her mid back, and drags her up with him.

Kakashi smoothes his fingers lovingly through the rose strands, lets his hands circle her waist and grope her ass. Sakura doesn't stop him—if anything, she seems to be egging him on.

He watches as the woman he's always perceived as modes, prudish even, falls back on her ass at the edge of the table and parts her thighs for her former teacher to step between.

Kakashi's touch is careful but not hesitant; it's slow and worshipping. His hands map paths onto her back, they touch her freely and without reservation, and he holds her close, like she belongs to him.

And then something in the atmosphere distinctively shatters. Kakashi's tentativeness morphs into a sense of impatience that shines through in his eagerness to let his hands wander, tugging here, pinching there, unbuttoning this, removing that. When he lays Sakura back on the table, Sasuke knows what will happen next.

He still can't move. Can't get himself to look away from the mesmerising way they move and respond to each other.

Kakashi's palms drag down Sakura's sides to the button of her pants, and he undoes it with deft fingers before grasping the waistband and yanking hard enough to drag Sakura a few inches down as he helps her out of her clothes.

Her panties are sheer black, her long creamy legs brought up by Kakashi to rest on his shoulders.

Sakura would have never let him lay her down in such an exposed position.

But when Kakashi bends down to kiss up one thigh, her fingers sink in his hair and urge him closer … closer and closer until Kakashi's face is buried between her legs.

It's utterly indecent, the way her back arches so far up, her palms coming to rest on her clothed chest.

Kakashi eases back to tug down those glorious panties, and then he's diving in again, eagerly sucking at her clit, dipping his tongue inside her until Sakura's entire body is shivering and she has to clamp a hand on her mouth to swallow her noises.

Sasuke can't believe his eyes. Who is this woman? What has she done with Sakura who made love with the lights off? Who is this woman who lets her former sensei bury his face between her legs—in her _kitchen—_as her daughter sleeps upstairs, none the wiser?

Kakashi brings Sakura to her precipice with his mouth and Sasuke watches, feeling like a perverted voyeur, as she tumbles off the edge with trembling waves that he tracks with his eyes as they traverse the length of her body. He's humiliated and staggered to find himself turned on at the sight of her like this, even when it burns him that it's caused by Kakashi.

The silver-headed man leans back, looking grossly self-satisfied, and bends over Sakura to kiss her again, dipping that same tongue that was inside her into her mouth. Sasuke clenches his fists against the urge to adjust himself.

Kakashi is slowly but surely dragging Sakura back to her feet as they kiss long and slowly, filthy and wet, and he places his hands on her hips as they break apart, then turns her around, unbeknownst to him, to face Sasuke. Sasuke, who has resorted to concealing himself with a powerful genjutsu to avoid being caught as he finds himself drawn closer and closer to the events unfolding before him.

Kakashi bends Sakura forward, and she goes along willingly, pressing her front to the table.

Behind her, Kakashi fumbles with his trousers, takes his cock out.

Sakura's lips stretch into a silent moan as Kakashi eases himself into her body and settles inside her. He reaches for the hem of her shirt, pulls it up and removes it with her help, tossing it aside in favour of kissing the skin of her shoulders and down the length of her spine.

He does this unhurriedly, in tandem with the steady and powerful pace he sets with his hips. The muscles in his abdomen twitch and shudder as he drives harder into Sakura, who claws at the edges of the table and presses her forehead to it.

Kakashi is quick to begin fucking her in earnest, her need driving his, the palm on her hip moving up to sink into those pink tresses again and _tug_. Sakura hefts herself on her elbows and moves against him, fucking back eagerly as her expression screws up into something intense and unfamiliar.

Kakashi tugs her head as far back as it will go—in a move Sasuke wonders if painful—lips latching onto her neck to leave red marks on her pale skin.

The powerful snap of his hips doesn't abate, and he reaches to grope one breast in his palm as he buries his face in her neck and drives harder into her.

The finish line is close, and Kakashi seems determined to take her there again.

Sasuke doesn't know why he waits for her to fall apart. But the sight of her is riveting: glossy, pale skin, her stomach taut and shivering under his gaze, her hair a sexy mess of long, tangled strands falling over her shoulder.

Kakashi's free hand has reached around and is now between her legs, rubbing expertly even when Sakura trembles so hard she can barely stay on her feet.

Eventually, they come to a stop. Eventually, Kakashi turns Sakura in his arms and they meet with a satiated kiss. This wasn't a mindless fuck, Sasuke knows now for sure, because there's something tender and assured in the way they hold each other afterwards, hands moving mindlessly over each other's body.

His feet finally move as he takes a stumbling step back. He had seen _that_. He, Sasuke Uchiha, had stood and watched his ex-teacher, someone he had respected—albeit quietly and from the shadows—fuck his ex-wife on the kitchen table.

Suddenly he feels a little sick.

He doesn't know why it hits him now that _it's not his place _to have any say about what Sakura does or gets up to in her free time. She is not his anymore.

_But she's the mother of my child,_ a part of him seethes.

_Not your place! _another part of his brain hisses.

Torn between indignation and getting angry at himself for wanting to feel indignant, Sasuke turns on his heel and stalks away. Sakura does _not_ have any control over him.

She does not own him just as he does not own her.

He _doesn't_ care.

… _Fuck!_

Sasuke grits his teeth and walks home, the bothersome lingering of arousal still swirling in his gut, and feels disgusted with himself for being turned on at a moment like this.

He does not like being introspective, he does not want to dissect his feelings—that maybe he loved _owning_ Sakura more than he loved her. He does not want to know why he's angry—that maybe it's because she found what she wanted elsewhere and it was no longer _him_ she breathed for but _Kakashi_. He does not want to know why he feels betrayed—because _Kakashi_ found his happiness and Sasuke doesn't, _can't_, hate Kakashi, because Kakashi is the closest thing he has to a guardian—

Sasuke is left feeling like a clump of too many emotions and thoughts.

So Sasuke does what he does best, he squashes it down, does his laundry and goes to sleep.

Tomorrow he will be a thousand miles away, like he's always been.

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